


Emberglow

by AnaMikala



Category: Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Character Death, Drunkenness, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Spark Bond, Spark Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaMikala/pseuds/AnaMikala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shattered Glass AU, Prime-verse. Megatron and Starscream grieve over Breakdown's death, reinforcing their emberbond in the wake of their friend's murder. Angsty fluff, contains slash (MegaStar).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emberglow

**Author's Note:**

> My first Transformers fic. I am currently obsessed with Transformers: Prime. Such a wonderful TV series. I especially love the character designs and voice acting, and the story is rock-solid.
> 
> Anyway, enough gushing. This story is a Shattered Glass AU of the Prime continuity. If you don’t know what Shattered Glass is, it’s a mirror universe where Autobots are evil and Decepticons are good. They also possess embers instead of sparks.
> 
> This story also contains MegaStar. If you don’t like Transformers slash, or slash in general, then please go elsewhere.
> 
> Nothing herein belongs to me, but to Hasbro and any other copyright holders. I am poor, so please don’t sue me.

The _Nemesis_ hung silently over the North Pacific Ocean, above the heavy cloud cover, its hull illuminated by the gibbous form of the Earth’s only moon. It maintained position at its current coordinates, the engines shut down except for the ones that kept it aloft. It had retreated here on purpose, its denizens seeking refuge from their enemies after this disastrous day.

Breakdown, first medical assistant and one of the Decepticons’ heaviest-hitting warriors, was dead. He had been offlined in battle by the Autobots’ two-wheeler femme, designation Arcee. It was actually quite solicitous to Arcee to say he had died in battle. It was an ambush rather than a fair fight, an outright assassination.

Arcee’s partner Cliffjumper had been offlined earlier in the year by Starscream, the Decepticons’ lieutenant commander. It had saved the lives of three young humans who had had the misfortune of seeing Cliffjumper in his true form, and who the dark-purple Autobot had been trying to kill for the offense. Starscream had, on pure chance, flown overhead as Cliffjumper pursued the human children, and couldn’t in good conscience leave them to be crushed by the enraged mech. He had tried to simply block Cliffjumper’s path and give the humans time to escape, but the two mechs had come to blows, and though Starscream had meant to only defend himself until the humans were safe, he had accidentally dealt Cliffjumper a mortal wound, miscalculating the force of his opponent’s lunge, his sharp digits piercing through chestplates to impale the other mech’s ember. To add to Starscream’s dismay, the children had in fact _not_ fled, instead hiding nearby and watching the fight. Having no other choice, the seeker had taken them back with him to the _Nemesis_ to ensure their safety.

Though Cliffjumper’s death had been an accident, Arcee had sworn to avenge him. As she had been deprived of her partner, so had she deprived Starscream of one of his closest friends, offlining Breakdown in a blitz attack from the one-eyed mech’s blind side. Though physically much larger and stronger than Arcee, Breakdown didn’t have a chance, his ember chamber blown open by Arcee’s blasters. He had tried to retreat, but the burgundy two-wheeler had shown no mercy, ripping the sputtering ember from his chest with her bare servos. It had been over in less than a minute.

A pall had fallen over the _Nemesis_ and its crew when the wrecker’s body was brought onboard. Starscream, Knock Out, and Airachnid had been especially stricken, the three of them each having had a close friendship with the big mech. Starscream had fled the bridge, Airachnid had sobbed, and Knock Out had gone still and quiet, the sight of his assistant’s emberless body seemingly sucking the life out of him, too.

Megatron cycled a sigh and rubbed at his faceplates. To call today difficult would be a massive understatement. Breakdown was not only one of his best fighters, but one of the few mechs Megatron allowed himself to consider a personal friend. His loss bit deep, and the Decepticon commander felt it in his very ember. The glowing orb of energy had whirled agitatedly in its chamber, and only now was returning to its normal rhythm. The pain itself would take much longer to fade, however.

“Is everything as expected, Soundwave?” he asked as his communications officer turned from the computer terminal to face him. The normally talkative mech had been markedly silent since word of Breakdown’s death had reached the ship.

Soundwave nodded once. “All systems are reading normal. Energon consumption is within acceptable boundaries, and all hands are accounted for.” All hands accounted for, but not all online. Soundwave left that part unsaid.

“Good,” Megatron said, nodding as well. “I will take care of turning the bridge over to the night shift. You are dismissed for today, Soundwave.”

Soundwave left, muttering his thanks as he passed his commander. Though he hadn’t been as close to Breakdown as some others, the loss noticeably affected him, as well.

A short while later, the ship’s operations safely in the capable servos of the night crew, Megatron took his own leave. As the door hissed shut behind him, it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Starscream since the seeker ran from the bridge. The look of horror and grief on his bondmate’s face had been painful to see, and Megatron had dearly wished to go after him. He owed it to the rest of his followers to remain, however. He had to stay focused, steer them through this tragedy with a steady servo. He was their commander, after all; if he didn’t keep his cool, then who would?

Starscream’s life signal was coming from the direction of the residential part of the ship. As Megatron followed it, however, he realized that it wasn’t coming from the officers’ quarters as expected, but from one of the common areas. The mess hall, to be exact.

The mess hall door opened to him as he approached, and he immediately spotted the seeker. The smaller mech was seated at the far end of one of the long tables. He was bent over an energon cube, his wings low against his backplates. Even from this distance, Megatron could see that he was shaking. Thin, mournful sobbing reached his audials.

Megatron quickly closed the distance between him and his bondmate.

“Starscream,” he said quietly, gently laying his large servo on the seeker’s shoulder. Starscream did not look up, nor did he react at Megatron’s touch. He would have sensed Megatron’s presence through their emberbond before he even entered the room. He would not have been surprised by the touch.

The seeker continued to whimper.

Megatron lowered himself to one knee beside his bondmate, now at an angle to be able to look into Starscream’s face. The flyer’s expression was one of despair, ocular lubricant dripping steadily down his faceplates. His bright blue optics glittered with the fluid, staring sightlessly down into the energon cube he held clutched in his servos. His wings were in their lowest position, occasionally fluttering with the force of his emotions.

“You grieve for Breakdown,” Megatron said. It was not a question, but a statement.

Starscream nodded, not speaking.

Megatron looked at the cube in Starscream’s servos. It was a unit of high-grade, and was more than half empty. There were two drained cubes on the table nearby, as well. It didn’t take long to put two and two together.

“Starscream,” Megatron said again, this time gently admonishing, “you’re overcharged, aren’t you?”

Starscream seemed to hesitate briefly, then he nodded again, slower this time. A hiccup jolted his slender frame.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Megatron asked, careful to keep accusation out of his voice. “Why drown your sorrow in high-grade? You know I worry when you do that.”

“You…y-you were…b-busy,” Starscream stammered, the words coming out haltingly.

“If I knew you really needed me, I would have come to you,” Megatron countered, his servo moving to a wing. He rubbed at the appendage softly, hoping it would sooth his bondmate. “All it would have taken is a single word.”

“Why would I have to _tell_ you I need you?!” Starscream suddenly burst out, looking at Megatron accusingly. His words were slurred, his vocalizer scrambled by the high-grade he had consumed. One servo balled into a fist and slammed down onto the tabletop, making the cubes rattle alarmingly.

Megatron refreshed his optics, taken aback by Starscream’s abrupt temper, but did not draw away. He continued petting the wing, trying to calm his mate.

Starscream looked back down to the cube in front of him. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, wavering. “I-I know you have duties to the rest of the crew, and to this ship…b-but _I’m_ your _bondmate_! I just lost one of my closest friends, and my bonded mate has to be _told_ that I need him!” He was sobbing again, barely understandable, the high-grade and his emotions both working to make him almost inarticulate.

Megatron suddenly felt guilty. Starscream was right. He had sensed through their bond the despair Starscream felt at his friend’s death, but had let the seeker run from the bridge alone, sent him raiding the ship’s supply of high-grade in his need for comfort. What kind of bondmate did that?

“I’m sorry,” he said softly after a moment, meaning every syllable. He hated seeing Starscream in pain, and the resentment his mate felt toward him for presumably ignoring his distress left a bitter taste on Megatron’s glossa.

Starscream lifted the cube to his lip-plates, taking a drink. Or rather, he tried to. He was shaking so badly that it didn’t all make it into his mouth, a thin stream dribbling down to his chin and dripping onto the table.

Megatron sighed, taking the cube from Starscream and setting it down out of the seeker’s reach. “You’ve had enough now.” He pulled Starscream to his pedes, one servo encircling his upper arm, the other at his waist. “Come on, let’s get you to berth.”

Starscream didn’t protest, nodding slightly as he was lifted from the chair. Before he was able to take a single step, however, he wobbled dangerously, starting to lean too far to his left.

Megatron caught him before he could fall, saving the seeker from a hard impact with the unforgiving floor. With another sigh, he scooped his mate into his arms, holding him behind the shoulders and knees. Starscream immediately put his arm around Megatron’s neck and leaned into the embrace, pressing his faceplates into Megatron’s neck cables. His chassis was noticeably warmer than usual, an obvious sign overcharge. Drinking nearly three entire cubes of high-grade at one time would have had Megatron buzzing, meaning a mech of Starscream’s smaller build would be pretty much plastered.

The Decepticon commander held his mate close, exiting the mess hall and making his way through the ship’s corridors to their shared quarters. They had been bonded since the early days of the war against the Autobots, so it was only natural that they shared a living space.

Megatron’s route took him past a large window to the outside, and the two were bathed in shimmering moonlight. The large mech stopped and turned toward the window, gently shaking Starscream to rouse him from the doze he had fallen into.

“Look, Starscream,” he said quietly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Starscream did indeed look, and after a moment he nodded, his lip-plates turning up in a faint smile. He had always loved watching the stars, no matter what planet he found himself on, and here above the North Pacific they shown in all their unimpeded glory. The luminous band of the galaxy, called “Milky Way” by this planet’s inhabitants, cut across the sky like a wide, glittering river.

“Beautiful,” Starscream whispered after a moment, echoing his mate’s words.

They stayed for a little while longer, then turned away and continued on towards their quarters.

“How are the children?” Starscream asked as they entered the front door of the suite of rooms they called home. “Do they know about Breakdown yet?” His speech was clearer than it had been when Megatron first found him. His words still ran together, but he was a bit more understandable now.

“They don’t, not yet,” Megatron replied, heading for the berthroom. He shook his helm. “Poor Miko. She’ll be heartbroken.” The young female human from the nation of Japan had become especially close to the wrecker, and his death would undoubtedly hit her hard. Her friends, Jack and Rafael, had formed similar bonds of friendship with Airachnid and Knock Out respectively, and would be equally crushed if those two were offlined.

“Mm,” was Starscream’s only reply, unconsciously hugging Megatron just a little tighter. When his mate laid him down on the large berth, however, he cycled a deep sigh of relief, as if he hadn’t recharged or even rested in days. Indeed, the events of this day would have exhausted any mech or femme in his situation.

“Lie next to me, love,” he said quietly, looking up at Megatron with soft optics.

Megatron nodded, climbing onto the berth as Starscream scooted aside, giving him room. As he lowered himself to the padded surface, the seeker turned towards him, pressing up against his chassis, his need for warmth and comfort painfully obvious. Megatron heard the smaller mech sigh contentedly as he folded his arms around the slighter frame.

Starscream was still for only a moment. Then with a murmur he began to move his servos over Megatron’s plating, his digits skittering over the polished surface, dipping under plate edges and into transformation seams, teasing the sensitive circuits underneath.

Megatron made a low noise, pleasant little tingles running through his neuronet. Starscream knew his body better than he himself did, and knew all the right places to touch to get his engines revving. He opened his mouth to whisper his mate’s designation, but Starscream chose that moment to lift his helm and press their lip-plates together, kissing him with surprising firmness for one so inebriated. His glossa flicked out, seeking entrance.

Oh, it would be _so_ nice to give in to Starscream’s obvious desires…but no. He shouldn’t. Not with the seeker’s faculties so clouded with the effects of too much high-grade. Gathering his resolve, Megatron wedged his servos between himself and Starscream, pushing the smaller mech away.

“Starscream, don’t,” he scolded gently. “You’re overcharged. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Wouldn’t be _right_?!” Starscream screeched, optics wide with indignation. He stared at Megatron, his incredulity surging through their bond. “I’m not just some casual date, Megatron, I’m your _bondmate_!”

“I know,” Megatron conceded, “but _you_ know I’m not comfortable interfacing with you when you’re overcharged. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Starscream insisted, shaking his helm. “I would want you whether I was overcharged or stone-cold sober. You know that. You’re my bondmate, and I love you.”

“As I love you,” Megatron said, meaning it with all his ember, “but please, Starscream, don’t ask this of me. I could not risk hurting you like that.” He took Starscream’s face between his servos, gently massaging with his thumb digits.

“You and your _stupid_ morals!” Starscream whined, placing a servo over Megatron’s. “You _won’t_ hurt me! I know you won’t. I trust you…with my very ember! Please, beloved…” He trailed off, his vents cycling rapidly, on the verge of crying again.

Megatron cycled a sigh. He loved interfacing with his bondmate, and he treasured every time they came together. But he just couldn’t do it when Starscream was overcharged like this. There was, however, something else they could do.

“Lie back,” he said, coaxing Starscream onto his backplates, being careful not to bend his wings the wrong way. When Starscream reached for him, he pushed his servos away. “No, just be still—” he stroked Starscream’s chestplates “—and open up.”

Realization dawned in Starscream’s optics, and he let his servos rest at his sides. His chestplates shifted and drew apart, exposing his ember chamber, which without hesitation also opened, laying bare the very core of his being for Megatron to gaze upon.

For a moment, all Megatron could do was look at it, its sheer beauty awing him the same as it had the very first time he laid optics on it. Starscream was a very attractive mech, all sleek lines and tempting curves. Megatron maintained that his loveliest part, however, was his ember. He possessed such love and compassion for others, and a deep yearning for peace in this time of war. His ember shimmered with kindness and selflessness, and Megatron was certain he had never seen anything so beautiful in all the galaxy.

Finally, at the sound of his mate breathing his designation, Megatron moved his own chestplates and ember covering aside, exposing his own luminous core. Starscream had fawned over its supposed magnificence, but Megatron knew it didn’t even compare with that of his dear seeker’s.

They had interfaced this way many times, but that wasn’t what Megatron had in processor. Instead of gathering energy into his ember chamber and launching it into Starscream’s, he moved over the smaller body and lowered himself down. Supporting the bulk of his weight with his arms, he touched their chambers together. Their energies instinctively reached out to each other and combined, making a single ovate mass of light and power filling both chambers at once.

They groaned in unison as their embers merged, each one instantly aware of the other’s thoughts, emotions, and sensations. They could feel such things anyway through their emberbond, but not nearly so potently as when their embers were physically linked.

Megatron rested his forehelm against Starscream’s, letting the feelings course through him, his engines humming in contentment. This was not the kind of merge that would make their bodies crackle and writhe with mounting charge, and would not lead to overload. This was merely a soul-deep embrace, a closeness unlike any other possible. It let them bask in each other’s presence, reaffirming and strengthening their bond. Starscream had described it as a bliss beyond that of overload, and Megatron found he couldn’t argue with the seeker’s choice of words.

As Megatron felt Starscream’s emotions and thoughts, he also felt the effects of the overcharge. It didn’t impair him as it did his mate, but he was well aware of its presence. He wished Starscream didn’t feel the need to retreat to the high-grade supply when he was hurting. It never helped, and had so much potential to harm. Sometimes, Starscream had to be protected from himself, and that pained the Decepticon commander.

 _Please…don’t…_ Starscream spoke haltingly through the bond, his words crystal clear with their embers merged, _don’t ever leave me. If you offlined, I would go insane. I couldn’t continue functioning without you at my side._ Breakdown’s death, it seemed, had made Starscream fearful of his bondmate also falling to the Autobots. The seeker’s slight frame was trembling, and his optics once again glittered with ocular lubricant.

 _I won’t_ , Megatron replied, also through their bond. _We will both survive this war, I promise you._ He said this with absolute conviction. He simply could not entertain the thought of the alternative. Not with Starscream on the verge of tears like this. The other mech needed reassurance, not more doubt and fear.

 _Do you think_ , Starscream said almost shyly, _that when the war is finally over, we could…start a family?_ He reached up and stroked Megatron’s faceplates affectionately, hope settling in his blue optics.

Megatron allowed himself an indulgent smile. _Of course_ , he purred through their bond, petting a fluttering wing, _and I will give you as many emberlings as you desire._

Starscream, Megatron knew, had wished to start a family for ages, but they were both painfully aware that the middle of a war was no place to raise delicate emberlings. There were just too many risks. And so, to the sorrow of them both, they had put off conceiving until the end of the war…and the end was taking so long to come, if it ever came at all.

Starscream’s faceplates split into a grin. _Oh, don’t be hasty, my love. How do you know it won’t be_ me _giving_ you _emberlings to carry?_

Megatron chuckled. Starscream was right, of course. Who’s to say which one of them would carry their emberlings? Megatron wasn’t always the dominant one in their encounters. It wasn’t unheard of back on Cybertron for a mech to be sire to some of his offspring and carrier to the others. Femmes were only capable of carrying, not siring, but mechs had the potential for both, and being one on one occasion didn’t rule out the possibility of being the other on a later occasion.

There were even instances of couples carrying each other’s emberlings at the same time. It was rare, because during the periods when a mech’s body is likely to conceive, his capacity to sire emberlings upon another is greatly reduced, and vice versa. Hormones favored one capability over the other at different times in fairly regular intervals. There were several cases of concurrent carryings, however, so it was not impossible to sire offspring during such times. (Past the earliest stages of gestation, however, it _was_ impossible, so the conceptions had to be very close together for it to happen.)

 _You are right, my little seeker_ , Megatron admitted, smiling warmly.

They lay in silence for a long while, basking in the glow of each other’s embers. Their awareness shrank down to just the two of them, as if they were floating in a sea of tranquility.

When Megatron finally lifted his helm, he saw Starscream’s optic ridges sliding lower toward his cheekplates, his optics dimming as he approached unconsciousness.

“Rest now, love,” Megatron said aloud, levering himself up and off of his bondmate. He shifted to the side to lie next to Starscream, his chestplates sliding back into place. Starscream was a bit slower to do so, but his own chestplates righted themselves a moment after their embers parted, closing with a dull clank.

“Love you,” Starscream murmured, optics offlining as he slipped into recharge, his vents cycling easily. He felt safe next to Megatron, allowing him to relax completely in his bondmate’s presence.

“Love you, too,” Megatron whispered, leaning down to kiss Starscream. His lip-plates lingered a moment on the other mech’s, and when he pulled away he settled next to the seeker, gathering him into a protective embrace, Starscream’s helm tucking up underneath his chin.

Despite his gentleness with his mate, Megatron’s faceplates shifted into a look of grim determination, his mouth a thin line. The Autobots had murdered one of his best warriors today and, more importantly, had hurt his beloved Starscream.

There was just no other choice left to him, no way that they could continue on like this. He would end this war, would do everything in his power to end it, even if it meant hunting down and destroying the Autobots down to the very last mech. It went perpendicular to his principles, but if that was what it took, then he would see it done. For Starscream.

Recharge didn’t come easily to him that night.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review. It would make me ever so happy to read what you guys think of my first contribution to the Transformers fandom. It’s so rare to find a non-abusive MegaStar fic, and I thought Shattered Glass would be the best approach to writing one. Less chance of it derailing into blatant OOCness.
> 
> Flames will be printed out and used to line my cat’s litter box. TL;DR: Don’t bother leaving any.


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